


The Beginning of Something Really Excellent

by chucklingChemist



Series: Alternian Snapshots [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beginning of the Knife Shoes, Discussion of Fashion, F/F, Impractical Weaponry, Pre-Matespritship, impractical clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucklingChemist/pseuds/chucklingChemist
Summary: One's a designer always looking for something novel and interesting. One's a seadweller on the hunt for a designer willing to accept her bizarre ideas. It's only natural they were fated to meet.
Series: Alternian Snapshots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1260209
Kudos: 1





	The Beginning of Something Really Excellent

**Author's Note:**

> In my aggravatingly slow attempts to write KH fanfic, I completely forgot I needed to port stuff from my Tumblr. Oops ^.^". This was written about two years ago and takes place around the same time as The First Hivemate. If you read that one, you'll probably be able to tell where this fits. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Aisral is owned by [ActualSnowLeopard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualSnowLeopard/)

On the first night, Mayola found nothing.

She wandered around the streets of a still foreign city, looking for some elusive tailor that lived out in the woods that refused any highblood that came to her doorstep. The few highbloods in the city - all of them landdwelling, though Mayola knew a certain fuschiablood by name of Careen Elsker had been forced to move here - all told her such an effort was completely futile. The designer had refused to design for indigoblooded models, highly influential patrons of the arts, and supposedly even Careen herself and suffered no repercussions. Rumors flew around if the designer herself scared off any of the threats sent her way, or if she had some sort of unknown assistance. Either way, she was deemed as threatening and dangerous as she was talented, and pointless to search after if you were above teal blood.

Mayola didn’t care about any of these warnings. To her, there was a key difference between those highbloods and herself.

_She_ was Mayola Yoscan.

The second night, she caught whiffs of information. The troll wasn’t much younger than Mayola herself, young enough she had yet to enter adulthood. And some kind of midblood - one troll insisted the designer was a jadeblood, but general consensus indicated she was a tealblood. Her lusus was some sort of wading bird, and more commonly was seen outside the hive than inside. And her name was Ace…Ace-something. The rest probably wasn’t important. She even managed to work up sending a quick message online to Careen. Such a conversation resulted in Mayola receiving exactly 68 reminders why she never talked to someone who she was pretty sure technically counted as whatever trolls had for a family and exactly 0 further leads.

The third night, Mayola picked whatever random paths she could in the city’s outskirts that led to the woods, knocking on any door that looked even vaguely like it could belong to a tealblood. It took countless hours, but eventually she found herself looking at a large, modern boxy hive with more windows than it had walls sitting adjacent to a carefully sculpted pond. She initially wrote it off as belonging to an actual blueblood had it not been for one noticeable point: inside the pond stood an elegant crane, staring right into her soul. An invitation…. Or a warning. Mayola didn’t care. It was a sign.

She marched down the cobblestone path, up the relatively small stone porch, just outside the completely plain door and rang the doorbell. To her surprise, initially nothing happened. No rabid animals tried to run her off the porch. No flamethrower pointed directly at her face and threatened to incinerate her. No drones descended from the sky. The crane certainly didn’t try to violently murder her. There wasn’t even some sort of doorbell chime to announce the presence of a stranger.

“Of course,” Mayola muttered in irritation. “I finally find it, and this happens.”

Mayola’s hand gripped the door handle. She was a fuchsia. Nothing except common decency said she couldn’t at least check and see if a troll still lived here. She certainly wouldn’t get in trouble. And who knows, maybe this really was just some recently abandoned hive. Maybe she got snuffed by drones. Or enslaved. All she had to do was–

“Darling, haven’t I told you don’t have to ring the bell?” A sudden, loud voice filled the porch. Mayola’s hand jerked away from the handle right as a computer screen opened up in the center. On the other side of the screen stood a female troll blinking large amber eyes behind wide, circular glasses harshly at her. Her straight, black hair fell in a short bob around her neck that failed in completely hiding the points to her ears. Her horns seemed short, but enough of her head was in the frame of the camera it was hard to tell. “Really Pallia I…oh.” The troll’s eyes narrowed. “You are not Pallia. What brings you here?” Her rather cordial, albeit oddly Eastern-Alternian accented tone turned to irritation the longer she spoke.

Mayola crossed her arms, blocking her symbol from her dress and huffed. “Lookin’ for some kinda fancy designer?” she asked. Her lowblood accent sounded forced, even in her ears, but whatever. Sounded better than whatever accent this troll spoke with, at least.

“Don’t they all? I’m a busy troll! I have better things to do with my time than entertain some fish with delusions of grandeur,” she said. “Especially one so closely tied with…” She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “ _Her_.”

“Oh, ya mean Careen? Yeah, trust me I don’ like her one bit either,” Mayola said.

The tealblood glanced up at her, eyes suddenly gleaming with interest. “You hold contempt for the Heiress?” She put a hand to her chin. “Hm…but perhaps it is simple biology for one such as yourself to hate her?”

“It ain’t biology!” Mayola snapped. “Trust me, even if she were a different caste I wouldn’t put up wit’ her!”

“So you say,” she muttered darkly. She stepped away from the camera and pressed a few buttons. “I will let you in. Remain where you are and I shall greet you at the door in several minutes.”

_Several_ minutes were an exaggeration. It only took a couple minutes at most for the door to open. The troll didn’t stand very tall, only coming up to Mayola’s chest even as she wore elegant boots with a noticeable heel. Her small horns curled into half-moons on the top. She wore an all black pants suit that flared out into a teal colored tail. Her symbol was completely absent on her outfit. And she smelled….like smoke? Having not been on land for a very long time, she was unfortunately still unfamiliar with some land-exclusive smells, smoke being one of them.

“So you’re Ace?” Mayola asked.

“Ace- _ral_ , yes,” Aisral said. “Now come, come! We shall sit and discuss theoretical prospects. Hopefully they will come to fruition.” She ushered Mayola inside to the entryway and started walking straight, seemingly uncaring if Mayola managed to follow or not.

“And if not?”

“A shame for you, I expect.”

The two walked mostly in silence, allowing Mayola time to adjust to the hive. The inside was just as large and spacious as the exterior would naturally allow her to assume. The minimal furniture in the overall hive only succeeded in furthering the feeling. Whatever furniture there was only existed in monochrome, something Mayola was pretty sure was a peculiarity among trolls. Generally they held plenty of furniture pieces in their colors. But here? Black leather furniture and ebony tables on elegant black rugs offset white stone walls and floors with nary a hint of teal in sight, giving off a distinct feeling Mayola walked onto a living chessboard.

Traditional artwork she knew higherbloods had such as paintings or sculptures were replaced with mannequins wearing clothing of all sorts, for all sorts. Yellowblooded jumpsuits designed with elegant headpieces to hide bifurcated vision. Impeccably clean clown outfits sitting around pools of multicolored paint. Dresses in all white designed to look like lusii. Another one in all black hugged the mannequin tightly, soft white lights going down the side of the dress down to the hip. Suits for men, women and anything in between that literally glowed the blood color.

Mayola stopped at one mannequin and pointed. This one seemed far more normal than the rest, simply showing a white long coat that went long past the plain black cocktail dress underneath. “What’s with the sudden simplicity?”

“Ah, that one is a commissioned piece. The dress is unimportant. Had to ensure the coat fits over clothing, you see.” Aisral continued to walk with short, direct steps. “You don’t care about that one. We are here to talk business yes? Not have some fish flounder at my work?”

“So you do more than commissions?” Mayola asked. Her faux accent disappeared in her surprise, but if Aisral noticed she didn’t comment on it.

“Doesn’t every artist?” Aisral stopped for a second to look over her shoulder at Mayola and roll her eyes. “But such works are to showcase what I can do, not to give away to the first troll whining about some nonsense about blood color when that ultimately means nothing.”

“Huh.”

“‘Huh’ indeed,” she said. Aisral walked up a large flight on stairs that almost seemed to float in space, as opposed to actually hook themselves up onto any sort of wall. Finally, she stopped at the blank wall nearest to the top of the stairs, pressing a few more buttons on a keypad. The wall piece slid open from the bottom of the floor, revealing another room. “We shall talk in here. Take a seat.”

Mayola nodded and walked inside, instantly plopping herself in a large, lush chair placed across a small desk. Aisral took the black oversized desk chair from across the desk. If the intention was to somehow make her look even smaller yet more like some kind of B-movie supervillain, it succeeded. “So you’re letting me buy something?” Mayola asked cautiously.

“Buy? Hm…no. _Purchasing_ is something lazy models who think being pretty and connecting nucleon cells constitutes marketable skills.” She huffed, narrowing her eyes once more. “I’m letting you commission me. If you even are willing to part with your precious–”

“Done.” The words weren’t even out of Aisral’s mouth entirely before Mayola slapped a fat wad of money down on the desk. “Don’t act like I’m that other fish bitch running around.”

Aisral’s lips curled into a smirk, showing the barest hint of all-sharp teeth tealbloods commonly had. “Hm…I had my initial reservations, but perhaps I was right in allowing you in.” Aisral scooted her chair up further up and swiped the money up. Delicate looking fingers with noticeably shorter claws than any troll Mayola’s ever seen thumbed the money. “This is an impressive amount. You care deeply about getting your piece commissioned.”

“I’m not – I mean I _ain’t_ – lookin’ for just a commission.” Aisral’s expression fell, but Mayola continued. “I’m lookin’ to keep a future partnership going. Consider this money for a commission and advance payment for a sponsorship. You need more?”

Aisral eyed Mayola. “Hm…perhaps. Perhaps not. I’m not in the type to limit myself.” She leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers across the armrests. “Show me something I’ve never seen.”

“What?”

“Go on! If I have a sponsor, they should support the same ideals I do. What is it you want commissioned?”

Mayola shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Admittedly, she hadn’t expected to get this far. And her preliminary drawing had already gotten laughed out of every designer she had taken to this far. She’d been told so many times there was no feasible way to make her design work - her blood be damned, seeing as her lack of ancestry correlated to the trollian equivalent of a bastard child - at this point, Mayola had almost lost hope completely.

“Cold walkers already?” Aisral asked, raising her eyebrows. “Well I suppose such is expected. Not all can live up to their –”

And out it went. Mayola shoved out a crumpled piece of paper from a small compartment in her black leather purse out towards Aisral, who snatched it up immediately. “That,” she said evenly, “is my commission.”

Aisral smoothed the paper out and turned on a bright white lamp. “Not one for drawing I see. Fine fine, that’s no issue. Hm…”

The drawing was crude, that was for sure. It had to have been something Mayola designed when she was even younger - maybe not even three sweeps - back when she was bored in her special fuschiablooded tutoring sessions. Something to make her feel as powerful as she was told she should feel, diagrammed in dull colored pencil complete with arrows pointing to the obvious. A pair of seemingly plain pink pumps with straps around the ankle and up the knee to help keep it in place. An in place of a tall stiletto heel? A stiletto knife.

“It’s an old drawing,” she said. Aisral nodded. She took the drawing off the table and swiveled her chair back and forth casually, a claw tapping her chin.

“Yes, yes. I have oculars. Your design is as impractical as it is unusual.” Mayola sighed and opened her mouth to retort, but Aisral put up a finger. “However…it does show promise. I will need to work with you to tweak your design, but it is workable. Certainly unique.”

She swiveled her chair back so she was facing the desk. “I believe you have yourself a deal. We shall meet in the future to work together and discuss further payments. Is such agreeable to you?”

Mayola grinned. “Hell yeah! You got yourself a fuckin’ deal Ace…uh, Ace!”

Aisral sighed as she stood out of her chair, but it sounded more good natured than any behavior she had yet. “My name is Aisral.”

She stayed for a little longer, discussing their next meeting. The two agreed to meet up once more at Aisral’s hive in a little over a perigee. Mayola could see if the prototyped design was to her liking and Aisral could accept the first payment. It was a sound deal. Except for one little problem.

The forth time Mayola returned, a perigee later, the hive disappeared.

_Not disappeared_ , Mayola thought grimly. _Burned to the ground._

Everything where the hive was now stood to be little more than a smouldering pile of ashes adjacent to the same pond. If it could burn, it did. No exceptions.

“Just my fuckin’ luck,” Mayola muttered. “Find someone willing to make it, and poof! Fucking culled. Guess Careen couldn’t accept someone else having something.”

As if on cue, her phone buzzed with the only Trollian update she needed to see: Aisral apologizing for the last minute message, insisting on meeting at a different address, further off in the woods. Fortunately meaning Aisral was okay, and she did recognize the address. Unfortunately, Mayola recognized the location as the area several other trolls across the castes warned her about: the supposed hive of the Sandyhorn Witch.

Then again…similar rumors flew around for Aisral and she seemed okay. Granted, trolls actually reported the Sandyhorn Witch dragging bodies off of streets and away, which was probably a true red flag.

Then again, Aisral trusted her. And she had faith in Aisral.

She sent a brief message saying she’d be there asap and left it at that. It wouldn’t take very long to get there, not from here. In fact…now that she checked the address it looked rather close. Only a couple minute walk down the street. She had never realized how close Aisral lived to the edge of the woods. Or just how tall the trees got down here the further you walked down the street.

The hive the address led her to was right where the actual road ended. From this point on, there was nothing but paths taken by various 4 wheeled devices, but nothing paved. While the hive itself was an open field, immediately outside the perimeter that she could call a yard, the whole area around it was surrounded by trees scraping against the sky.

And for a witch, the hive was….strange. Roughly four stories tall, it matched the modern look of Aisral’s hive in all but the numerous windows. A pair of double doors were styled more like the entrance to a business than that of any sort of true home, complete with a pleasant welcome symbol swinging in one of the windows near the door. Mayola took a deep, steadying breath and walked in, expecting the worst.

But it didn’t come. There weren’t any curses or hexes to be blasted with. No weapons pointed at her. Not even any fire, or absurdly advanced technology for one of her caste. She only walked into a comfortable room filled with couches and chairs of all colors next to fully foreign plants hanging on walls and down from the ceiling. A strange metallic smell intermixed with fruit hung in the air. Plastic cups of water sat on a messy coffee table. At the end of the room was a counter top in teal with a plain computer that mostly managed to hide whatever troll sat behind it. Only the bits of horns poked out of it.

“Uh…Ace? That you?” she asked. _Or is it the fucking Witch? Or … is Ace the Witch?_

The troll poked her head out from the computer. She was distinctly female, with general small features in every fashion except her tall horns. Her hair was in a bun only held up by pencils. A pair of half moon glasses sat as close to her face as Mayola figured they could.

“Assse? No. Are you…” she cocked her head to the side curiously. “Her sponsor?”

She crossed her arms. “Apparently I ain’t known around these parts. Whatever. It happens. Yeah, I’m her sponsor. Call me Mayola. Got a meeting–”

“With Aisssssral! Don’t worry, she told me. I’ll go get her. You wait here.” She grinned, flashing a pair of sharp, snake-like fangs and disappeared in a flash of white. In the brief second, Mayola swore she looked no taller than she remembered Aisral was, if not smaller.

But it wasn’t Aisral. So…it must be the Witch, leading to the second time now Mayola had been convinced someone wholly small and harmless was threatening. And tall.

“What a little-ass witch. Huh. God these fucking landdwellers get scared of anything I swear. Pansy ass landdwellers couldn’t take one singular fucking eel of the fucking deep coming out from absolutely nowhere ready to wreck your shit because the whole goddamn ocean is open waters of fucking everything. If they mistake this little thing for being capable of–”

“You’re here I see. Didn’t get put off.”

Mayola couldn’t help it. She whipped her harpoon gun out at the voice, lowering it the second she saw who it was. Aisral was in a far new outfit, this one fashioned more like a tight dress with her jagged symbol embroidered in the neckline. The other troll stood behind her with a mischievous grin, wearing a plain all-black outfit underneath a long, white coat with her hands behind her back.

“Don’t _fucking_ do that!” she exclaimed.

Aisral smirked. “Do what? Did I interrupt your train of thought? Did I scare you?”

“No I just….agh!” Her fins fanned out angrily, the light breeze barely able to cool off her heating face. “I’m here. We ready to do this?”

“Indeed. Let me just say, this was more of a challenge than I thought. But here we go.”

The other troll whipped out a beautiful pink pump from behind her back and put it on the counter top. It looked exactly like her childhood drawing, except real. The straps, the small tinges of gold swirls of her symbol that functioned as buckles, it was exactly as she wanted. With one exception.

Mayola glanced up at Aisral questioningly. “And the knives.”

Aisral nodded knowingly. She turned the heel so the inner part of the shoe faced her and pressed a small button against the ankle. The shoe wobbled slightly, but the heel seemed to morph in a quick second into a sharp stiletto knife. “I decided having a knife at all times would be dangerous, both for your ability to move in these as well as a hazard to those walking alongside you. So I modified your design slightly, allowing you to walk with a standard heel when it’s unneeded. It took more time than I anticipated, however, but I appreciated the challenge.”

“Whoa.” She glanced between the shoe itself and Aisral. Words couldn’t express the perfection she had for the shoes. Literally _nothing_ could have made the shoes any better than their design. The other tealblood seemed to agree, if her playful ribbing and grinning at Aisral indicated anything.

“I agree.” She pressed the button again, and with a quick _shing_ , the heel returned. “I also installed microscopic gyroscopes to ideally help keep you on balance. And of course, seeing as it came from myself, your new heels will be constructed to be waterproof, fireproof and virtually indestructible.” She looked back up to Mayola and pulled out a nail file. “Any questions?”

“It’s everything I dreamed for,” she said.

“Good, good.” She extended her hand out to Mayola. “Then let us call it now. This shall be the beginning of a beautiful partnership. Don’t let me down.”

Mayola earnestly grabbed Aisral’s hand and shook it. “Not even in the Witch’s dreams, Ace! You’re stuck with me until one of us gets culled.”

And if all worked out, such an event wouldn’t happen for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, feel free to hit up my [Tumblr](chuckling-chemist.tumblr.com/)or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/stormscourge). It's not much in the way of Homestuck anymore (even if I'm still actively writing my fantrolls), but I watch a lot of stuff (currently on Key and Locke) and livetweet reactions. So you know, if you're into that.


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